Carry On My Wayward Son
by CardigansAreCool
Summary: After Elrond has a disagreement with a dangerous group of outlaws, Estel realises that maybe he’s not quite as capable of looking after himself as he first thought.
1. Straight Jacket Feeling

**Disclaimer: **As you all know, I do of course own Lord of the Rings and all its characters and locations. Oh wait no… Sorry that's J.R.R. Tolkien. Silly me.

**Authors Note(s): **I'm afraid I have taken the liberty of killing off Aragorn's dear mother. I'm sure she was a lovely woman, but would have made this story somewhat more difficult to write. So R.I.P Gilraen, we barely knew ye. In fact we knew ye not at all.

Oh yes, and I have also continued under the assumption that when Elrond took Aragorn in as a child, he adopted him and raised him as his own. My apologies if anyone has a problem with that.

**Dedication:** I would also like to say that I am dedicating this fic to my good friend and beta Nietta, her gentle shoving and subtle emotional blackmail for about a year is the only reason this actually got written :)

Oh and one last thing, did you know that every review you write and send gets you one step closer to heaven:)

**Carry On My Wayward Son**

**Chapter 1  
**_Straight Jacket Feeling_

"Good, Estel!"

A young boy beamed at his much older brother, Elrohir.

"Considering this is only your third lesson, you are doing astonishingly well. We are very proud of you."

If Estel had been smiling any more, he would have been in danger of his face splitting down the middle. He had begged his Ada and his brothers for months to teach him to fight, and finally they had conceded.

"Thank you! Does that mean I can use a real sword next time?"

He had been quite disappointed with the training sword he had been given by Glorfindel; it was very plain and uninteresting, unlike his brothers' who had long and intricately decorated ones. He hadn't wanted to be ungrateful though, it was better than nothing after all. It would be no good if he were to go on one of his brothers hunting trips with them though – it wasn't even sharp!

Elladan frowned, "No Estel, you still have a long way to go before you are big and strong enough to use a real sword safely."

Estel pouted and dropped his training sword on the ground, "But Dan! It's not fair. I'll never be a proper grown up if I can't use a proper sword! Glorfindel even uses two sometimes!"

Estel often went down to watch Glorfindel and his warriors practice; sometimes the elf lord would even fight two elves at once and use two swords. Last time he had gone to watch them with Elrohir, his brother had told him that Glorfindel was just showing off to impress them. Estel hadn't believed him until Glorfindel had looked over and winked at him.

"Glorfindel is a tad older and has had a bit more practice than you Estel," Elladan smiled, "And don't worry, you will grow up to be great man. Trust me. Now come along, let's go inside and get cleaned up. All this practice has made me hungry!"

Estel sighed in resignation, they had been outside for hours and he had to admit, he was beginning to feel a bit hungry. He was a growing boy after all, he thought happily, he was a growing boy who needed to eat so he could be big like his brothers and his ada.

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Back in his room, Estel was splashing cold water on his face and scrubbing his hands. His Ada said he was never to eat with dirty fingernails because he would get germs in his food that would make him sick. Estel didn't like to be sick; being confined to bed and being forced to drink his Ada's nasty medicine was no fun at all. Elrohir and Elladan agreed with him, when they came back from one of their 'adventures' they were almost always made to stay in bed and drink the nasty medicine too.

Estel loved spending time with his older brothers. They had been on one of their 'adventures' for almost a month and a half this time and had only come home a week ago. Estel felt rather ambivalent about Elladan and Elrohir's adventures, on the one hand they always came back with fantastically exciting stories, but on the other, they also always came back with multiple injuries that caused their Ada to mutter darkly and glare at them. Elladan had told Estel that their Ada had practiced his glare for thousands of years and that when he used the full force of it, he could actually burn holes through a person.

He didn't believe them though. He had asked Glorfindel about it as well, and while Glorfindel had assured Estel it was true, he had not been able to contain his laughter throughout the whole conversation. So yes, Estel had his doubts.

It annoyed Estel when his brothers told him silly stories and expected him to believe them. Like the time Elrohir had told him that Elladan liked to be woke up in the morning by having cold water thrown over him. Estel found this to be untrue, Elladan had most certainly _not _enjoyed being woken up in the morning by having cold water thrown over him. Nor had Glorfindel for that matter…

Estel sighed; he didn't like being the youngest one in the family. He didn't usually get told off for the things that Elrohir and Elladan tricked him into doing though so it wasn't too bad. _They_ did though, usually while he was in the room. He hated the way they sometimes talked about him as though he weren't there.

_He's only young! He doesn't know he's doing wrong. Stop tricking him into doing your dirty work, _is what they would say. _He _has a name, thought Estel.

He walked out of his bathroom to change his clothes.

Sometimes though, Estel knew exactly what his brothers were up to, but he did what they told him to anyway for his own amusement and then let them take the blame afterwards. When his ada would question him, he would feign innocence and tell him in a confused voice that Elladan and Elrohir had told him to do it and he didn't realise he was doing anything wrong. Estel smiled, sometimes being underestimated had its advantages.

But then again, a lot of the time it didn't. He was nearly 11 years old and wanted to be treated as such! Maybe if he did something to prove that he could do things just as well as his brothers…

Maybe if he could show them that he could use a real sword they would treat him more like a grown up.

He pulled a clean shirt over his head.

He could go back down to the training fields and borrow one of the swords, there were so many no one would notice one missing… He could bring it back to his room and hide it, and then practice with it secretly. Then when he got really good, he could show his brothers and prove that he was just as good as them!

Filled with sudden excitement by his ingenious plan, he decided that if he went now, he could be back in time for his brothers to come and get him to take him down for dinner. They always took about fifteen minutes longer than him to get changed; they told him that as the sons of Lord Elrond, it was their duty to keep up appearances. Estel thought that this was a silly thing to do, and he dressed as he liked, son of Elrond or not.

So he stealthily left his room and as quickly and quietly as possible, and made his way back down to the practice field.

Luckily, he didn't see anyone on the way down, except Glorfindel and one of his warriors, but Glorfindel was so busy warning his warrior that, "If whatever you are taking me to isn't worth my time, you will suffer my displeasure,", that he didn't even notice Estel, who was nonchalantly leaning against a wall.

Avoiding Glorfindel successfully had put Estel in an even better mood than he was already in, so, feeling much more confident, he slowed down to a more leisurely walk.

Down by the field, everyone was so busy with their own training that no one even noticed Estel walk past them.

When he finally arrived at weapon storage, Estel walked up and down like an army sergeant, inspecting each sword as he came to it. He finally decided on one of the smaller ones, his brothers had always told him to pace himself, never start with something too big. So he picked one with a simple black and silver handle, and then tomorrow, when Estel predicted he would have sufficiently learnt how to wield a proper sword like his brothers, he would come back and get a bigger one to practice with.

Picking it up, he realised it was a lot heavier than he had been expecting. He frowned, all right; well maybe it would take two days rather than just one.

His excitement at the thought of seeing his brother's faces when he showed them how good he was going to be, filled him with adrenaline and he quickly left and made his way back to his room.

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Getting the sword unnoticed back to his room was proving more difficult than Estel had first anticipated. He was still tired from his training with Elrohir and Elladan and his arms were beginning to ache from his heavy burden. He had to get back to his room before his brothers did though so he sped up. As he rounded the corner of the corridor that his father's study was in, he broke into a run; he would never get back in time at this rate!

The weight of the sword made him lose his balance. He staggered. His knee gave way and he fell into something solid. Or at least he thought it was solid until it wobbled and tumbled to the ground. He cried out and there was a resounding crash as whatever he had fallen into hit the ground. As he fell forward, the sword flew from his hand and landed just out of his reach.

From his crumpled position, Estel gazed up in horror at the smashed vase. He heard the sound of a chair being scraped along the floor from Elronds office and flinched. _Oh no._

The door was quickly opened and an annoyed Elrond stepped out. Estel noticed three men sat in his office, he didn't like the look of them and their dark eyes peering out at him. They looked mean. His attention was brought back to his Ada though, who had glanced from the sword, to the smashed vase, back to Estel and then put two and two together. Elrond closed the door to his office over, not enough to block the view of the end man though.

"I'm sorry!" Estel gasped, "I didn–"

Elrond held up his hand and Estel fell silent.

"Estel, your brothers and I explicitly forbade you to touch a real sword without our permission, did we not?"

Estel nodded, fighting back tears.

"I also told you that under no circumstances are you to bring any form of weapon into the house, did I not?"

Again Estel nodded, a small sob escaping his throat, "I'm sorry Ada. I didn't mean to. I wasn't thinking! I thought that if I could show you that I could use a sword, you would let me go with Elladan and Elrohir next time they go away. I wanted to be grown up like you! Please…I'm sorry," he sobbed.

Elronds gaze softened at the sight of his adoptive sons tears; he knelt down on the floor and held out a hand for Estel to grasp. He did so and Elrond gently pulled him to his feet. Estel was trying hard to fight back his tears but they were flowing too freely now.

"You should not be in such a hurry to grow up my son."

"Please forgive me Ada," Estel choked through tears.

Elrond smiled fondly, and pulled Estel into a tight hug, "It's all right Estel, I think you've learnt your lesson for now, just don't do it again. Are you hurt? I'll clean this up later, but right now I'm in the middle of a very important meeting, so why don't you give me that sword to look after and you run and get something to eat with your brothers."

"Ok Ada," came Estels muffled reply.

Elrond released him and drew himself up to his full height once more and Estel bent over and picked up the sword. After handing the offending weapon to the elf lord, he quickly threw his arms around Elrond's middle again, "I love you Ada."

The tall elf smiled softly and placed a gentle hand on top of the child's head, "I love you too Estel. Now run along."

Estel turned to leave, but not before catching one of the men's eyes as he was leaving, the shrewd and calculating expression on his face unnerved Estel and he quickened his pace, stumbling slightly in his haste.

Elrond sighed and reluctantly made his way back into his office, "I'm sorry for that interruption."

The truth was Elrond was not sorry for the interruption at all. If anything he'd gladly welcome another one. By no means was Elrond afraid or intimidated by these men, but Glorfindel had been called away briefly by one of his warriors and Elrond didn't feel comfortable being in a room alone with them. They had a certain aura about them that unnerved him.

"You are being unreasonable," the man who had called himself Fenneth exclaimed, as though there had been no interruption.

"Yes. Those lands are being used for nothing. You don't need them!" Fenneth's accomplice, Polinthor, added.

"The majority of that particular stretch of land is being used to grow crops to feed my people. As I am sure you well know." Elrond looked at the men with a raised eyebrow.

The third man who had thus far not been permitted to speak by his superiors, was beginning to get nervous, he was not holding up under the intense gaze of the elf lord quite as well as the other two. He jumped up and slammed his hands down angrily on Elrond's desk.

"Are you accusing us of something?" he said defensively.

Elrond regarded the human coldly, "That depends, are you guilty of something?"

For several weeks, various crops from that particular area had been mysteriously vanishing. Elrond happened to know that these three men and the rest of their group were settled in the forest not a quarter of a league away, and had been for several weeks now. He normally wouldn't begrudge a band of travellers a few crops, but being the knowledgeable elf lord he was, he also happened to know that these were no ordinary band of travellers. They were outlaws from their hometowns, thieves and murderers mostly.

Thinking back, Elrond couldn't even remember what had possessed him to agree to such a meeting. At the moment, all he could do was hope he could end it soon. He was bored of the same arguments being thrown back and forth.

"You are completely unwilling to compromise?" Fenneth said, shooting a filthy look at Elrond.

"Yes. This meeting is over," Elrond noticed Glorfindel hovering at the door; he had arrived just in time for that last exchange, "Lord Glorfindel will escort you off the premises."

"You haven't heard the last of this," Fenneth spat.

"I'm sure," Elrond replied indifferently without looking up.

After Glorfindel had ushered the three murderous looking men out of the room, Elrond let his eyes wander, and they lay to rest on the sword that had just caused so much trouble with his youngest son. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had learnt by now not to ignore these feelings, as they were often present due to his gift of foresight. However, having a feeling that there was something wrong was useless, unless you had an idea what that something might be.

_To be continued…_


	2. Death of Seasons

**Disclaimer: **See chapter 1

**Authors Note(s): **I just want to thank everyone for the kind reviews :). They are very encouraging.

**Beta:** The wonderful Nietta again.

**Carry On My Wayward Son**

**Chapter 2**

_Death of Seasons_

Estel was not happy. His Ada had informed him at breakfast that morning that it was nearly the end of summer, _autumn is almost upon us_, he had said. Estel knew exactly what that meant; a lot less sun and a lot more rain. In fact almost as if the weather was trying to prove a point it was raining now.

Estel miserably trudged after his brothers; they were on their way down to the training field to watch Glorfindel practice.

"Why do they have to do it in the rain?" Estel whined.

"Well, epic battles don't always take place in the merry sunshine Estel. They need to be prepared for any kind of weather, just like you will need to be when you become a warrior," Elrohir replied.

Estel didn't say anything back but continued to mumble and grumble under his breath. The twins shared a look and suppressed a smile.

On arriving at the field it appeared that quite a few elves had been put off by the rain, there seemed to only be about half the occupants there normally would. As always though, Glorfindel was in the centre of the field, swords in hand and taking on two elves at a time. Estel smiled but didn't do anything to attract his attention because he didn't want to distract the elf lord. Although Estel doubted that anything he could have done could have diverted the golden haired warrior's attention, he looked far too deep in concentration.

They stopped and turned to watch. Fighting not five metres away was Elrohir and Elladan's friend Lindor. He had spotted them and held up a hand to his opponent.

"Sorry but could you excuse me a minute," Estel heard him say. Lindor thanked his opponent before walking over to where the young boy and the twins were stood.

"Greetings sons of Elrond," he said with a small bow, "What brings you down here today?"

"I wanted to come and watch the fighting. I'm learning to use a sword myself now," Estel said with a happy grin.

"Ah I see," Lindor smiled warmly at Estel before directing his gaze at the twins, "You haven't done any practice yourselves since you have arrived home I've noticed."

"No," Elladan began somewhat regretfully, "Lord Elrond said we weren't to 'overexert' ourselves for a few days after he allowed us to leave the healing ward. Then he went straight on to informing us that training, among many other things, fell directly into that category."

"Well it's been a few days now hasn't it?" Lindor replied with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, "Spar with me."

The twins laughed.

"I'm afraid we are here with our dear brother now. Not for our own benefit," Elrohir said looking amused.

Lindor put his hands up in resignation, "All right then mellon nin. If you are too scared to spar with me now while your young charge watching, then maybe another day when you won't feel as embarrassed losing to me."

"You wish Lindor," Elladan laughed.

Lindor gave a mock bow, "Well my lords, I'm going to go and continue my practice over there, where the elves do not fear to face me."

Then with a smile he was off, leaving the two dark haired elves torn between amusement and exasperation. Estel didn't notice though as he watched Lindor exchange a few words with an elf and then promptly draw his sword. As the twins and Estel followed Lindor's fight, Glorfindel made his way over to them.

Estel was amazed by the skill that the elf was displaying and after only two minutes, Lindor knocked his opponent's sword from his hand.

"Good isn't he?" Glorfindel said from next to Estel.

"Yes! How did he win so fast?" Estel exclaimed in admiration.

"A lot of practice," Glorfindel said seriously.

Estel pondered this for a moment, "Have you had a lot of practice?"

"Absolutely, thousands and thousands of years worth of practice. I've had even more practice than your Ada, that's why I'm so superior to him," he replied with a small smirk that made Elladan and Elrohir roll their eyes.

"Whoa. You must be ancient then!"

Glorfindel's mouth fell open and the twins burst out laughing.

"Ancient indeed! Stop laughing at me you insolent elflings, I will tell your father and you won't be laughing then will you?"

Elladan and Elrohir ignored him and carried on laughing. Looking highly affronted, Glorfindel walked up the stone steps into weapon storage and slammed the door with bang.

"Oh that's it Glorfindel, talk about setting a good example for Estel. Slamming the door like the small elfling we have just established you most definitely are not," Elladan choked out through tears of laughter.

Glorfindel's head popped out from around the door, "I did not _slam_ the door. I merely closed it…with authority."

Feeling awful, Estel said with widened eyes, "I'm sorry Glorfindel! I didn't mean it."

"That's all right Estel," Glorfindel said with a wink. He then turned around and went back into the room and quickly added, "I was only joking."

Elrohir rolled his eyes, "Estel why don't you go with Glorfindel and he can show you some of the swords?"

Estel nodded and ran over to catch up with the elf lord. He hurried up the wet stone steps. O_h no, _he thought as he felt his foot land of the ground at an odd angle.

"Ah!" he shouted as his ankle twisted. He was falling but he couldn't stop himself. His knee _crashed_ down on the edge of the hard stone and with a cry of pain he rolled down the steps and toppled down to the ground. The twins gasped in horror and ran over to where he had pushed himself into a sitting position and was trying to hold back tears.

"Estel! Are you all right!"

"Yes I'm fine," he gasped in reply, "It's just a few bruises and a scratch, I don't want to make a fuss."

"No Estel, that bleeding looks bad. Come on, we're taking you to Ada."

"No!"

Nearby elves were stopping what they were doing to watch. Estel felt awful, he was so embarrassed and he didn't want to cry in front of everyone.

"Estel, come on. We are going to Ada."

"No! I'm fine!"

Elrohir ignored him and picked him up, and together the two elves made their way to their fathers study cradling their younger brother in their arms.

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Estel flinched slightly as Elrond cleaned the cut on his knee with disinfectant. He was very unhappy with his brothers; they had carried him like a baby all the way to his Ada's office. They had then explained to Elrond what had happened except they made it sound as though it was his own fault for running! He was only trying to catch up with Glorfindel because they had told him too. It wasn't _his_ fault the steps were slippery. Elrond had ignored Estel's angry protests though and simply told him to sit down because he was about to drip blood all over the carpet.

"This needs stitches," Elrond said straightening up, "Come on we'll need to go to the healing wards."

Again, Estel's protests that he was fine were ignored as his Ada led him from the room. Estel winced slightly as he shifted his weight onto his left foot. Elladan had forgotten to mention the fact that he'd hurt his ankle and Estel wasn't going remind him, but at the moment it was hurting terribly. It was only sprained though, Estel thought. He wouldn't have been able to walk at all if it had been twisted.

"Lie down," Elrond instructed when they arrived. Estel moved to the closest bed and lay down without argument; there was no point really as he'd eventually be made to do it anyway. He watched as Elrond bustled around the room looking for various herbs to numb the pain.

"I'll be back in a moment Estel, I need to go to the store room to get the salve I need to put on that ankle of yours," Elrond said without looking up. Estel almost laughed as Elrond left the room; trust Ada to have figured it out without being told.

In the room all Estel could hear was the pitter patter of raindrops splashing against the windows and with a sigh Estel rolled over on the bed to look out the window, however he overestimated the amount of space he had on the bed and with a _crash_ fell to the ground, aggravating his already bruised body.

He yelled out in surprise and Elladan came rushing in, he must have been stood outside Estel though idly.

"What happened?" Elladan exclaimed.

Estel groaned, "I wanted to see if the view from the floor was better then from the bed… What the hell do you think happened!"

"I thought-" Elladan began angrily.

"I think it was a rhetorical question Elladan," Elrond interrupted from the doorway.

The dark haired elf frowned at his younger brother and then spun around and quickly exited the room.

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After being told by Fenneth that 'due to unforeseeable circumstances, it will take longer than we planned to acquire the land we need to begin building our new homes', the men were growing restless. Even murderers and thieves become weary of never-ending travel.

It was almost nightfall and Polinthor sat in the rain with his legs crossed considering what needed to be done; he would have to talk to Fenneth as soon as he got back from wherever it was he had disappeared off too. Polinthor looked around their campsite; tents were scattered seemingly randomly around the area. They were close enough to Rivendell for the trees to have started to thin out, allowing the travellers enough room to set up tents, but far enough away to be out of Rivendell's sight. It was a perfect spot.

The man shivered and pulled his earth worn cloak tighter around himself to try and fight off the growing cold. It was no use though; no matter what he did to prevent it, the chill still somehow seemed to seep through to his very bones, making him feel numb.

Some of the men had been off to steal more crops from the elves land that morning, and while Polinthor had had no objections at first, he just didn't think it was wise to continue. After his meeting with Elrond, he had no desire to invoke the Elf Lords wrath upon them.

He heard a rustle behind him and his head shot around. Fenneth strode through the trees towards him, his long black cloak flailing about in the howling wind.

"Where have you been?" Polinthor asked accusingly as Fenneth closed the distance between them.

"For a walk, not that it's any of your business," came Fenneth's sharp reply.

"We should leave; the men are growing restless and wish to move."

"No not yet."

"What do you mean? 'Not yet'?"

Fenneth didn't answer for a minute, "I mean, not yet. I don't think this visit will be a complete loss. We are staying here."

"But-"

"No buts! You will do as I tell you!"

They glared at each other for a moment. Then Polinthor looked away and stepped back. He knew when he was out ranked.

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Dinner was a very arduous affair. Estel sat and scowled at his food, occasionally pushing it around his plate. His Ada had made him stay in for the rest of the day for shouting at his brother and for 'causing a kerfuffle'.

"Estel don't play with your food," Elrond said sharply.

A heavy silence hung in the air but Estel was so unbelievably angry that he didn't even notice.

Elrohir cleared his throat in an attempt to cover up how uncomfortable he felt, "I was talking with one of Glorfindel's scouts earlier, there have been orc sightings by one of the near by villages."

Estel's ears pricked up.

"Is that so," replied his father.

"Yes. Elladan and I were thinking of going to check things out. See if the villagers are all right."

"I see," Elrond said slowly, "And are you going to be taking anyone with you? Or is this going to be another of your lone quests?"

Elrohir faltered, "Well we weren't going to take anyone with us, no."

"I'll go!" Estel cried out.

There was a short silence.

"You will do no such thing," Elladan said quietly.

"Why not?" Estel demanded.

"Because you are far too young of course."

"I'm not," he insisted. The conversation was gradually getting louder and louder.

"Yes you are Estel. You can't even use a sword yet."

"Only because you won't let me!"

"Enough," Elrond said loudly. The two brothers stopped mid-sentence but continued to stare at each other, "Estel, you are not going and that is final. Now can we please try and enjoy the rest of out meal?"

Estel didn't even hear the second part of his Ada's sentence. He threw his chair back and stormed out the room, "It's not fair!" he cried, "You never let me do _anything_!"

He ignored his brother's demands that he come back and carried on down the corridor. It wasn't fair! How dare they treat him like this! He was old enough to decide what he was and was not capable of doing, wasn't he? Now for example, he had decided he was capable of going to his room, and go to his room was exactly what he was going to do.

As he stormed through Rivendell, he could hear the pounding of the rain outside. _Oh what fitting weather_, he thought sardonically. A deafening clap of thunder made him jump.

Whilst the weather reflected his mood, Estel hated thunder storms. They inspired fear in him like nothing else he had ever seen. He suspected it had something to do with the fact that it was on a night exactly like this that his parents had both been brutally murdered right in front of his eyes. Estel shuddered as he tried to banish the disturbing mental images his mind was conjuring. When Estel had first been taken in by the elves he had endured nightmares about his parent's deaths every single night. As he had grown older they had become more and more infrequent. Thankfully, at nearly eleven years of age, the image of a man with an arrow protruding from his eye and a woman with a coarse dagger embedded in her back only plagued his dreams on nights like these.

Lightning flashed and the small boy suppressed a squeak as he ran into his room slamming the door behind him. His bedroom would have been pitch-black if it were not for the occasional flash of lightning and the eerie moonlight through his window from an infrequent break in the clouds. Luckily Estel knew his way around with his eyes closed. He got changed into his warmest pyjamas as quickly as his body would allow and threw himself into bed.

The thunder seemed to be getting louder so Estel pulled his blankets over his head to protect himself from the vicious storm. Through his makeshift material armour he heard the handle of his door turn and open quietly. A sudden soft light filled the room as Lord Elrond stepped gracefully through the doorway holding a candle. Estel could see his silhouette move closer to the bed and place the candle gently on his bedside table.

"Good night Estel. You know where I am if you need me ion nin."

Estel didn't move or give any recognition that he'd heard. He heard his Ada give an almost imperceptible small sigh before he turned around and silently left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

The injustice of it all welled up inside Estel, how dare Elrond come in here and make him feel guilty! He had done nothing wrong! It just wasn't fair.

It was at that point he decided what he wanted to do.

About fifteen minutes later he stood in front of his mirror, admiring himself by candlelight. He had dressed in the warmest clothes he possessed and donned his heavy leather boots. Estel walked across the room to where he had laid his bag to check he had everything he would need. Food, check. Water, check. Pocket knife given to him by Elladan for his last birthday, check. Extra blanket, check.

It was a foolproof plan, he would sneak out tonight and hide in the near by forest. He would live in the wild for a day or two; it should be easy enough. His Ada has fully healed all of his injuries from that morning as well so that wouldn't be an issue. Then when he came back to his family, they would absolutely, undeniably and irrefutably have to admit that he was quite capable of taking care of himself and they would stop smothering him. Estel had to smile at the ingenuity of his own brilliant scheme.

There was no way it would be late enough yet to leave as he wanted to wait until as many elves as possible were in bed so he could make an easy escape. So he sat down on his bed and waited.

_To be continued…_


	3. Buried Myself Alive

**Disclaimer: **See chapter 1

**Authors Note(s): **Thank you Nietta, Lina, Dreamer11563, viggoisagod, Lilandriel, SiriusBlackFan2 and Elfinabottle for the reviews. You shall most definitely all be going to heaven.

The kind people who send feedback for this chapter will be rewarded with virtual sherbet lemons and cookies :)

**Beta:** Nietta, who hearts semi colons in an unhealthy way but who I still love anyway :)

**Carry On My Wayward Son**

**Chapter 3**

_Buried Myself Alive_

Estel mentally congratulated himself for successfully sneaking out of Imladris, it was a job well done. Now the only problem was finding somewhere to sleep, it was still raining heavily and Estel already felt like a drowned rat. Not that he really knew what a drowned rat might feel like. He decided that his best bet was to make his way over to the forest as quickly as possible, partly because he didn't want to be seen after he'd just gone through so much trouble to actually get out of Rivendell and partly because he just wanted some shelter from the inexorable downpour.

As he half walked, half jogged through the swamp like fields towards the forest, his mind wandered back to when he had first been taken in by the elves. He had been too young to really remember anything of it other than his parent's gruesome murders, that image was planted firmly in his mind and Estel had no doubt that it would stay with him for the rest of his life.

He remembered how Elrond used to hold him and rock him to sleep to protect him from his recurring nightmares. At first Estel had thought he would never get used to calling Elrond _'Ada'_, but he quite quickly fell into it as Elrond proved to be just as much a father to him as his real father had been. Not that anyone could ever replace his real father, but if anyone could ever come close to it then it was the dark haired elf lord Elrond.

He also loved his brothers dearly and didn't know what he'd do without them. If only they'd stop being so absurdly overprotective!

Estel cast his mind back to a few months after he'd arrived at Imladris, Elladan and Elrohir were giving him a thorough tour of the entire area. All the elves had made him nervous at first, but he had soon got used to them. They all seemed to know the twins as well and were always very polite and friendly, they called his brothers "my lords" sometimes and it made Estel giggle, though he didn't really know why. Anyway, on that day an elf by the name of Ferinder had come to speak to the twins. He had looked down to Estel and said, "Who is this little chap?"

Elladan had promptly replied, "This is our new brother Estel."

Estel had felt his mouth drop open, no, but they weren't his real brothers were they? It was then he realised that it didn't matter that they weren't related by blood, it just mattered that they were brothers. From that day onwards, Estel had always considered Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir to be his real family, despite there being no actual blood ties.

He had arrived at the forest and suddenly felt a strong sense of unease. Maybe this was a bad idea… Maybe he should turn back and go home.

Water was dripping down his neck and he shivered involuntary against the cold.

He carried on walking slowly but the doubts were still niggling in the back of his mind. Perhaps he had been overreacting after all. Maybe he should just go back and see how he felt in the morning. He could talk to his Ada because he always fixed everything.

He turned around to leave and his breath caught in his throat, there was someone coming towards him. He quickly hid behind the nearest tree and watched with baited breath as a man walked past muttering profanities under his breath. Estel recognised him instantly; he had been one of the men in his Ada's office yesterday. He hadn't liked the look of him then, and he most certainly didn't like the look of him now. He needed to get out of here _fast_.

He edged around the large tree and peered about so he could watch the man until he was out of sight. But he wasn't there. Estel's breathing was getting faster and a stab of anxiety clenched in his chest painfully. His eyes frantically scanned around for the man. Where had he gone?

Estel slowly backed away from the tree but he bumped into something solid. Before he could turn around, two large hands clamped themselves roughly on his shoulders.

"Where do you think you're going my lad?" the man said dangerously.

Estel froze for a moment, paralysed with fear. If his heart had been beating any harder, he feared it would be in danger of beating right out of his chest.

"Well?" demanded the man, giving Estel a rough shake.

Suddenly coming to his senses, Estel hit out to escape from his captor's grasp. He struggled furiously and turned around to aim a kick at the man's leg. His foot struck home and the man cried out in pain as he felt a hard blow to his shin. Then taking advantage of the man's temporary distraction, Estel wrenched himself from his grip and took off as fast as he could into the woods.

It was dark, too dark to see properly. All Estel could make out where fuzzy outlines of things, but he kept running. His heart was pounding and his breath was escaping him in heavy gasps.

Then to Estel's horror another man stepped out from behind a tree right in front of him, but it was too late to stop. With a _crash _the two humans collided. Estel stumbled backwards but the man wrapped his arms tightly around the boy's waist.

"Oh no you don't. Fenneth, I've got 'im!" he yelled.

Estel struggled against his new captor in vain; he was obviously stronger than Fenneth.

Fenneth himself came jogging over, "Well done Morfran," he panted, "Take him back to camp. Don't lose him; we are going to use him to put the elves of Rivendell in a more cooperative mood. I'm sure Elrond will feel much more obliged to negotiate with us if he knows it's the only way to save his _sons_ life."

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Estel shouted, struggled, kicked, bit and elbowed his captor but nothing was working. The man's vice like grip remained around his neck and torso as he was dragged through the woods.

"Let go of me! You're hurting me!" Estel cried.

An orange light was looming in front of them, Estel realised it was a fire. There were other men and tents scattered around the small clearing they were headed for. A very tall man looked up at them curiously and then walked over.

"What are you doing? Who's that?" the bewildered man asked.

"Fenneth told me to bring 'im 'ere. It's Elrond's son 'pparently and we're goin' to use him to get our land," Morfran replied, dislike evident in his voice.

"You kidnapped Elrond's son?" Polinthor replied disbelievingly.

"No, we found 'im runnin' about the woods."

"Let me go! Now!" Estel suddenly shouted, thrashing out again.

In response, Morfran pushed him hard onto the floor. He then grabbed a handful of Estel's hair and yanked him up to his knees, "If you know what's good for you, you'll shut up."

Estel whimpered in pain but said nothing.

"All right, make sure he doesn't escape then," Polinthor said slowly. He then spun around and walked directly into what Estel assumed was his own tent.

Morfran grinned horribly, "Oh don't worry," he said quietly, "This ones not goin' anywhere."

Estel didn't like Morfran's tone of voice and he suppressed a shiver. He really wished the man would let go of his hair too; his head was beginning to throb.

People were beginning to look at them and he tried to turn his head in the opposite direction so they couldn't see his face. No such luck though, as soon as he tired to move Morfran's clutch on his hair grew tighter. Now that it was lighter because of the campfire, Estel could see the man's features properly. He was quite a short stocky man with scraggly shoulder length black hair. His eyes were a steely grey, much like his Ada's. Except unlike Elrond's they were small and seemed to be constantly repressing some sort of manic glint.

Estel shuddered as the man's eyes swivelled down to meet his own. Morfran grinned horribly and jerked Estel forward; he lost his balance and toppled to the ground.

Morfran let out a bark like laugh and grabbed him by his hair again, "Come on lad, why don't we go and sit over there and have a little chat?"

Estel's protests were becoming weaker and weaker as the man dragged him over to a large tree and pushed him down into a sitting position in front of it. He noticed dimly that it had stopped raining.

"So," Morfran began menacingly, "Who are you? You're definitely no elf."

Estel stared resolutely at the ground. He wasn't answering anything that crazy man was going to ask him. He flinched as the man let out another bark like laugh.

"Oh, so you're tryin' to be a tough guy are you? Well, we can soon fix that I think."

His hands found Estel's shoulders again and squeezed them tightly, and though Estel flinched, he still did not look up.

"Who are you?" Morfran said with a pause after every word.

Again Estel ignored him and kept his eyes desperately fixed on the ground. He was forced to look up however when Morfran's hand came crashing across his face. Estel cried out in pain and surprise as his head snapped sideways from the force. Before he could recover, the man stood up and delivered a swift and hard kick to Estel's stomach. He groaned in pain and tried to roll away from Morfran. The man was having none of that though, he bent down and dragged Estel up into a standing position.

Estel tried to struggle away from him while trying to catch his breath but the man pulled him forwards so their face was only an inch or so apart.

"I said," he paused, "who are you?"

Estel was fighting back tears, that manic glint in Morfran's eyes seemed to be shining with enough force to light up the entire area now. He was not going to be weak though. He would not let his Ada down and give this man the answers he wanted. So apart from his ragged breathing, he stayed silent.

"Wrong answer!" the man shouted.

Consumed with fury, Morfran threw Estel against the tree behind him with all his might; Estel could have sworn he heard all of his bones crunch together on impact. He tried to get up without whimpering in pain, but the man was quick to literally kick his legs out from underneath him.

Estel crashed to the ground again with an agonised yell as the man kicked him in the stomach again, this time so hard that Estel couldn't breathe anymore. He gasped and wheezed, trying to catch his breath again.

Through his stinging and watery eyes Estel could see that some men around the camp were watching and laughing at him. He felt a surge of anger and he tried harder to catch his breath.

Morfran laughed manically and aimed another kick, this time at Estel's face. He tried to roll out of the way, but all that did was make Morfran kick him in the back of the head instead. Estel tried to shout out but he felt like he was choking. He couldn't breathe. His world was going black.

With an unpleasant jolt, he was heaved onto his feet and felt Morfran hit him on the back making him cough. Suddenly it was easier to breathe again. But before Estel could feel any sort of relief, another fist slammed into his face.

Estel tried to fight back. Honestly he did. But the man was too strong. He easily overpowered the boy. The most Estel could do was not to give the man the satisfaction of seeing him cry, scream or beg for mercy, regardless of how much he wanted to do all three.

He kept his mouth clamped firmly shut and tried to avoid the relentless blows to his legs, stomach, chest and head as much as possible.

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Polinthor was growing incredibly vexed now. He had been sat in his tent trying to keep warm for about twenty minutes. Now that he finally felt that his body had heated up slightly and he was not still shaking, he was loath to go back outside and see what all the laughing and cheering was about.

The men were cheering about something and, as second in command while Fenneth was away somewhere, it was his duty to make sure the men weren't getting out of line.

Many of the men had questioned Fenneth's decision to make Polinthor their second in command; they would have preferred someone stronger and better at fighting. But no, Polinthor hadn't been chosen for his ability to fight, because if he was being honest with himself he was definitely no fighter. He had been chosen because he was smart and he could strategise. He could even read and write, something Fenneth had decided would be a useful attribute for his second in command, as he himself could do neither.

With a resentful sigh Polinthor stood up, his blankets pooling around his feet. He stepped out of his tent just in time to see Morfran kick the young boy so hard that even over the din, he heard one of his ribs break. The boy cried out in terror and pain and Polinthor felt a wave of pity.

"What is going on?" he demanded of the nearest man.

The man laughed, "Morfran is just teaching our guest a lesson because the insolent little worm wouldn't answer any of his questions."

"I see," Polinthor replied disdainfully.

He walked over to where Morfran seemed to have finally calmed down a bit. Polinthor suspected that the shock of having actually managed to break one of the child's bones had snapped him out of his rage.

"Where's Fenneth?" Morfran grunted when he reached them.

Polinthor eyed Morfran warily, "He's not back yet."

Morfran grunted again and jerked his head in the direction of the trembling heap at the foot of the tree they were stood next to, "What am I s'posed to do with 'im then?"

Polinthor pursed his lips, he was most definitely not happy with the treatment of their prisoner. Granted the boy was their bartering chip, but there had been no need to beat him to a bloody pulp. He was only a child after all; a human child no less. Not an elf like he would have expected the alleged son of Elrond to be. It was all very peculiar.

"Put him in a tent and make someone stand guard over it so he doesn't escape, and for God's sake give him a blanket or something. It will be no good if he dies of a chill."

"Fine."

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The shorter man stalked over to where Estel cowered on the floor. He squeaked as the man grabbed a fistful of his tunic and bodily threw him into the nearest empty tent.

"Unless you want a repeat of what just 'appened – Don't try an' escape," Morfran threatened before letting the flap down, leaving Estel cold and alone in the dark.

Estel pushed himself shakily into a sitting position and drew his knees up to his battered chest. Everything hurt so much. He was finding it especially difficult to breathe.

This was all his fault, he thought desperately, they were going to use him to take land and food from his _Ada_ and the rest of the elves. How could he have been so stupid? Estel had caused all of this because his brothers knew he wasn't old enough to protect himself and cared enough to want to keep him from getting hurt. He knew this now. They had been right all along. Estel suddenly couldn't hold back the emotions that had been threatening to overwhelm him all night; he let out a howl of anguish and shaking racked his body. Tears began to make smarting tracks down his face.

"Please, forgive me—" he sobbed, rocking slowly back and forth. And nobody was there beside him to comfort him. Nobody woke him from his nightmare. Nobody's fingers entwined themselves with his own, or wiped away his tears. Nobody gently scolded him, and then smiled tenderly. "Please, _Ada_…"

And nobody replied softly, _It's okay Estel._

_To be continued…_


	4. The Suffering

**Disclaimer: **See chapter 1

**Authors Note(s): **Ahoy and a big thankyou to viggomaniac, Nietta, whitedino, Elfinabottle, DawnStrider, viggoisagod, Lina and Lilandriel for the reviews. They are greatly appreciated :)

**Beta:** The fabulous Nietta, who loves International Talk Like A Pirate Day as much as I do.

**Feedback** be very welcome. Arrrrrr!

**Carry On My Wayward Son**

**Chapter 4**

_The Suffering_

It will be fine, Glorfindel thought as he edged towards his friend and lord's office. He was practically famous throughout Middle Earth for his calm and collected demeanour no matter what the situation, Glorfindel was positive he wasn't in fear of losing any limbs. Almost positive at least. Sure he might end up being shot one of Elrond's infamous glares, but he could handle that. Glorfindel had seen Elrond fly off into a rage before and he had no desire to repeat the experience. It just wasn't something one wanted to be on the receiving end of this early in the morning.

Glorfindel mentally cursed that wretched 'rock paper scissors' game; it clearly wasn't fair. Elladan and Elrohir where Elrond's sons! He was far less likely to lash out at them. Not that he thought that Elrond would lash out at him. No, that would just be foolish. He almost rolled his eyes at himself, he could face and defeat a widely feared and powerful Balrog but the thought of talking to his friend terrified him.

He paused as he reached Elrond's office and then steeling himself, knocked on the door.

"Come in," Elrond's voice came from inside the room.

He gulped before quickly entering the room and closing the door with a snap behind him. Elrond hadn't even looked up to see who it was, he was pouring over a document with a sour expression on his face, his eyes were narrowed and his eyebrows contracted so much that he looked positively hawk-like.

The golden haired elf stood in silence; he knew Elrond would not thank him for interrupting him at this very moment in time. How was he going to tell him? _My you're looking tired today, I can see you're busy, by the way your youngest son seems to have gone missing, is that a new robe?... _No, that would never do. Glorfindel could only imagine the reaction he'd get from that. The truth was though, they weren't entirely sure that Estel had gone missing at all. He hadn't been in his bed or turned up for breakfast, but he might have just gone for a walk. Elrohir had told him about the argument they had had last night so he might even be hiding from the elves because he needed to time to himself, which was understandable really, Glorfindel had been led to believe that the child had been _very_ upset.

But the fact was, at the moment they had no idea where the boy was and Elrond had a right to know unfortunately. Why, at this very minute the twins might have already found him and they had hugged and made up. Somehow Glorfindel doubted it but it didn't hurt to hope.

After what felt like an eternity, but was in fact less than two minutes, Elrond finally looked up from his desk.

"Good morning, Glorfindel," he said, but he then seemed to notice Glorfindel's pained expression and frowned, "Is something the matter?"

Glorfindel decided on a direct approach, "As a matter of fact, yes there is. I'm afraid young Estel has gone missing. That is to say…we can't find him…as of yet…But I'm sure he'll turn up!"

Seeing the elf lord's darkening expression he quickly carried on, "We went to look for him in his room because much like you, he didn't turn up for breakfast this morning. So the twins and I have had a look around and we can't see him… Elladan and Elrohir are still looking while I thought I would come here and inform you of the situation."

Elrond's expression changed instantly to deep worry. He dropped his pen on his desk and stood up. "I'll help you look," he said, moving to the door.

Glorfindel couldn't help but sigh in relief and thank Valar that his limbs were still intact.

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Elladan and Elrohir had looked everywhere; they had even gone around the grounds to see if he had gone outside. Elladan was beginning to get seriously worried. There was nowhere else he could have possibly gone! Unless he had left Rivendell, which was stupid, Estel wouldn't leave Rivendell. He'd have nowhere to go.

"Where do you think he could be?" Elrohir asked in a low voice, rousing him from his musings.

Elladan sighed heavily, "I do not know. We've looked _literally_ everywhere. Let's go back to his room and see if we can find some clue."

His brother just nodded and they turned around and headed back to Estel's bedroom.

Whilst walking they spotted Lindor who was walking towards them.

"Is something wrong?" Lindor asked upon seeing them.

"Yes. Our brother seems to have gone missing, have you seen him?" Elladan answered sadly.

Lindor shook his head, "No I'm afraid not. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Elladan's heart sank and he barely suppressed a sigh, "Can you just keep an eye out for him please, we are getting terribly worried about him."

Lindor nodded, "I'm sure he will turn up my lords," and with that he walked away, leaving the two brothers alone again.

They walked in silence back to Estel's room, each lost in their own thoughts. So much so that upon arriving, they didn't even seem to notice their father sat on his bed with his head in his hands or Glorfindel gazing sightlessly out the window.

Elrond looked up at Elladan, his eyes full of sadness.

"He has left."

Elladan was puzzled, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that his travelling cloak has gone along with his bag, a few sets of clothes, his walking boots and his stash of food he is under the impression we don't know about hidden under the bed."

Elladan felt a pang of guilt and horror. How could Estel have gone…_Where_ could Estel have gone? It was illogical, he was frightened of storms! He would never really go out in one alone. It was folly. But perhaps he had been pushed so far over the edge that he would rather brave a storm than stay in the warm comfort of his own home and have to keep the company of his elven brothers. Surely Estel had been overreacting…It wasn't his fault. It couldn't be. He looked at his twin and from the expression on his face could tell that he was thinking the exact same thing.

No! Had he been that awful that Estel had felt forced to leave? Elladan sought comfort in his father's grey eyes that reminded him so much of Estel's but found only worry. An all consuming guilt began to gnaw at his very soul. How could he have let this happen…He should have known that something was very wrong.

"We shall send out a search party," Elrond said, his voice not betraying the emotions Elladan could see shining in his eyes.

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Polinthor stifled a yawn as he looked at his piece of paper, poised to write. Fenneth was pacing up and down the small tent looking thoughtful. It was just after dawn and poor Polinthor had been dragged out of his restless doze by an active looking Fenneth who was demanding his services. Not that he minded especially, he just wished that it could have waited a few extra hours. Sleep had only actually found him an hour prior so he was still incredibly drowsy. Not that Fenneth had noticed. Polinthor expected no less from him really, when he had that strange cunning glint in his eyes he was clearly planning something, and while he did so nothing but that mattered to him.

He had gone to check on the child before he went to aid Fenneth; he was still in there sleeping thankfully. Some of his wounds looked like they would need some form of treatment though or he would get ill. He would be no use to them dead.

It had finally stopped raining and what golden sunlight could make its way through the thick leaves of the surrounding trees was doing so with full force. It cheered the man somewhat. The sun has a way of doing that though, things actually always seem better in the morning. He doubted the son of Elrond would see it that way, but at the moment he was in an inexplicably decent mood.

Fenneth stopped pacing and his scrutinising gaze fell on Polinthor. It was unnerving but Polinthor knew better than to react to it. One did not want to cross Fenneth, although he wasn't quite as beefy as most of the other men, he was tall, fast and absolutely lethal with a sword. The man had never been beaten in a sword or fist fight for as long as Polinthor had known him, which was quite a long time. Rumour had it was that the reason Fenneth had been cast out of his home town was for murdering his own father after an argument one night and then in a frenzied rage went on to kill his mother and little brother. Polinthor wasn't sure how much of that he believed, but thinking about it he wouldn't put it past the other man. He was ruthless, uncompromising and Polinthor had never known him to show mercy of any kind. Mercy was for the weak apparently.

Finally Fenneth opened his mouth to dictate what was to be written…

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…"Dear Lord of Rivendell," Elrond read aloud in a toneless voice, "Now that we have your attention, we expect your full co-operation if you wish to see your son alive again. Meet me at the fork in the river at sundown today ALONE. If my messenger is hurt in any way or is not back within two hours, your son will be delivered back to you in small sections."

There was a stunned silence. Even Glorfindel looked shell shocked.

They had all been very surprised when Erestor had found them in Estel's room and informed them that there was a man in Elrond's office demanding to see him. With slight hesitation Elrond had gone to his office followed closely by Elladan, Elrohir and Glorfindel. He had much more important things to do, like organise a search party, so this had better be fantastically quick he had thought.

Upon arriving, the man had said nothing to them but handed Elrond a weather beaten looking piece of paper with hurried writing scrawled across it. Elrond had pursed his lips and taken the paper with an annoyed glance at the interrupting man and his horrible timing. As he read the letter to himself he had felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Now Elrond was absolutely stunned._ How could this have happened?_

Elladan turned angrily to the Fenneth's messenger but Elrohir put a hand on his arm.

"Don't hurt him," Elrohir said, "The might hurt Estel."

From his seemingly calm appearance an outsider might think that the younger twin was unaffected by the news, but everyone else could see how he had clenched his hands into fists so hard that his knuckles had gone white. Elladan shot the messenger a glare before nodding to his brother.

Elrond saw the man smirk slightly and felt anger bubbling up inside him, "Leave us this instant and tell your leader that I will meet him at the suggested time and place, but so help me if you have harmed one hair on my child's head I will personally kill every single last one of you in the most horrific ways I can think of."

The man's smirk faded as he realised this was no idle threat, he gave a swift nod and turned on his heel, leaving the elves alone in Elrond's office.

As soon as the messenger was out of earshot Glorfindel faced Elrond with a frustrated expression on his face, "What did you say that for? This could be a trap! They could be waiting there to ambush you!"

"What did you want me to say, Glorfindel! I hardly had a choice in the matter did I?" Elrond replied quietly.

The twins mutely stared hard at the floor, until finally Elladan said, "This is all my fault."

"Don't be absurd El-"

"No! It's my fault! I should have paid more attention to him instead of snapping at him all the time! If it wasn't for me then Estel wouldn't have left in the first place."

"It is equally my fault brother, for I too treated Estel with the same attitude," Elrohir said sadly.

Elladan opened his mouth to protest but Elrond cut him off, "Now is not the time, everyone deserves a small share of the blame but at the moment it is not important. Please concentrate on the problem at hand."

"Fine. You can't go alone though, Ada. Glorfindel is right, it could be an ambush."

"I do not have a choice, we cannot do anything to jeopardise Estel's safety."

"His safety has already been jeopardised!" Elladan said throwing his hands up in frustration.

Elrond almost flinched as his son shouted at him but he tried to remain calm and rational. It would be no good if they all flew into a rage. He shuddered to think how Estel must be feeling now; he had never been away from his family for more than a few hours before. He wondered if Estel felt as helpless as he himself did now.

"Well what do you propose we do, Elladan?"

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He tried to open his eyes but found he couldn't, they seemed to be swollen shut though he didn't know why. Come to think of it he also seemed to be lying on the floor, this most certainly not what his bed felt like. He tried to roll over and groaned in pain, now he remembered what happened. There was a sharp stabbing pain in his chest where his rib was broken and his throat was dry and scratchy, he tried to swallow but that just made him cough violently and painfully.

He bit his lip and tried to open his eyes again. He could only widen them a few millimetres before he had to shut them again because of the dazzling light. It was obviously morning now but Estel didn't want to wake up. His limited sleep had been so peaceful and painless. His eyes were still stinging from crying but he didn't care. He desperately clenched them shut and made a futile attempt to go back to sleep.

He heard someone opening the tent and he wanted to cry, but instead he pretended to be asleep. Maybe they would leave him alone if he were sleeping, then after they were gone he could try and think of an escape plan.

A large bucket of cold water was suddenly thrown over his prone body, making his feigned sleep impossible to keep up. He jumped up in alarm and tried to get away from the source of icy water. In his haste to move away he tripped over and a familiar bark like laugh rang through the tent.

Morfran towered over him with a look of immense amusement on his face. Estel groaned and tried to roll away but the man put a foot on his stomach, making him incapable of movement and said, "No there'll be none of tha' my lad. Fenneth wants t' see you."

Estel blinked against his blurry vision, he was still finding it difficult to keep his eyes open. He let Morfran pull him to his feet and lead him outside into the bright sunlight. His muscles also seemed to be rebelling against him and he was having trouble staying on his feet, partly because of tiredness and partly because of the beating he took last night.

As his eyes slowly adjusted to the light and he looked around. There were fewer men than there had been before; Estel wistfully decided that they were probably still asleep. He wished _he_ was still asleep…

Looking straight ahead he saw the man who had been in his Ada's office and who had found him last night, he was sat at some kind of portable wooden table with the taller man who had greeted them when he and Morfran had arrived. Fenneth was chewing on something and Estel suddenly realised that he was desperately hungry; he hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon after all. The taller man, who Estel later learnt was called Polinthor, was sat resting his head in his hands. He seemed as tired as Estel felt, although unlike Estel he also looked quite content and relaxed.

He stumbled but Morfran grabbed the back of his shirt and kept him upright. Estel struggled to get away from his grasp but it was too firm. He closed his eyes briefly in resignation and let himself be steered towards the table without too much resistance.

Estel shuddered as he saw Fenneth's cold blue eyes sweep up and down him, sizing him up. He hitched a deceptive smile on his face that Estel recognised as fake immediately. His brothers wore the same expression when they were trying to trick him into doing something and he wasn't fooled for a moment. Polinthor made no such pretence though; his eyes kept flicking over to Fenneth but expression remained neutral with a slight hint of apprehension.

"Thank you, Morfran, you may leave," Fenneth said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Morfran just grunted and obeyed.

Once he was out of earshot Fenneth turned back to Estel with the same false smile plastered on his face, "So my lad," he began, "Why don't you sit down."

Estel didn't have the strength to argue so he sat down on the stool that Polinthor had risen from and was indicating.

"I hope you slept well," Fenneth said. Estel almost snorted; of course he hadn't slept well! He had a broken rib for Valar's sake!

"Now we didn't get a chance to talk last night as I had other things to attend to. So we can have a chat now I think. What is your name?"

Estel sighed and looked down at the floor, not this again, he thought. Fenneth waited almost a whole two minutes before talking again.

"Well fine then, Estel, if you don't want to tell me your name we'll have to talk about something else!"

Estel looked up in shock. He noticed Polinthor looked surprised too.

With a smug expression Fenneth nodded, "Yes my lad, I already know your name. But what I really want to talk about is your elf friends. I'm having a meeting with your _father _this evening and I want your opinion on how many of my men I should station around the area just in case he tries something. It really all depends on how much you mean to him and whether he will risk his own life for yours."

Estel's heart sank as it hit him once more that this was all his fault. Fenneth must have read his expression because his face suddenly split into a sly grin.

"It's a shame really, the Lord of Rivendell being killed over a stupid child like you. Oh yes, I remember that little scene you made back in your home, a nice vase you smashed there. I'm surprised Elrond wasn't angrier at you, but I suppose parents are blind when it comes to their children, even when they aren't their _real_ children," Fenneth said nastily.

Estel was horrified, "No! Don't hurt _Ada_! I thought you just wanted his land?"

The man laughed and he leered at Estel malevolently, "Well yes, at first I did. But this is the perfect opportunity that I doubt anyone will ever get again. I will move to the highest circles when people find out that I am responsible for the death of the protector of Rivendell. There will be songs written about me!"

Estel felt his eyes well up with tears once more which seemed to amuse Fenneth greatly, "Do not worry," he began, "If Morfran is feeling kind, he may make your death as quick and painless as possible…once we have disposed of the rest of your family."

"Please leave them alone," Estel begged. He couldn't let these men hurt his family…He just couldn't.

Fenneth's eyes suddenly flashed dangerously, "Stop your snivelling, I do not have time for this. It is time you accept that this is all your fault and move on. Although if you are lucky I might bring one of your friends back alive and you can see them one last time before I kill them."

Somehow Estel was not comforted by this idea, he opened his mouth to argue but Fenneth had waved a hand above his head and Morfran came trotting obediently back over.

"Take some guards and our young friend here further into the forest for just in case the elves realise what is happening. I need you to keep him away from them so we can still use him as leverage later. Don't take too many though, I need to take most of them with me."

Morfran grunted and grabbed Estel by the back of his shirt once more and pulled him backwards off his stool. "Come, little Estel," he whispered in Estel's ear, "We need to finish our conversation from last night I think."

_To be continued…_


	5. Attack

**Disclaimer: **See chapter 1

**Authors Note(s): **Dreadfully sorry about the long wait! Life has been a bit hectic recently with college homework, coursework deadlines, university visits, personal illness, theatre trips, birthdays and my general social life. Combined they drastically cut in to my allotted writing time. Nevertheless, I know it's a ridiculously long time since I last posted a chapter and I'm sorry.

The chapter itself was also being difficult with me; we've had many an argument before it finally allowed me to write it, and even now I'm very unhappy with it. It seems a lot shorter than my other chapters…So I'm terribly sorry for that as well. Oh, I'm also sorry for the number of times I've said sorry in these two paragraphs. It's silly really.

A huge thanks to Elfinabottle, DawnStrider, whitedino, Nietta, viggoisagod, Lina, leggylover03, viggomaniac and Dreamer11563 :)

**Beta:** The genuinely ever patient Nietta.

**Carry On My Wayward Son**

**Chapter 5**

_Attack_

Elrond stood with his back to the river. They were late and he was _not_ happy. He had not had _that_ much experience with psychotic murderers and kidnappers before, but he was sure that they were known for their meticulous timing and dramatic entrances in this kind of encounter. But no, he had been stood there for about fifteen minutes now and he was beginning to feel nervous. That was probably the reason the man was late, sadistic mind games.

He wanted to look around and see if he could find Glorfindel and the twins, but he knew it would be impossible to see them or the warriors, they would be far too well hidden and all he would achieve would be to draw attention to them if Fenneth saw him looking.

The signal was for him to touch his left ear. Even though they were far away, the enhanced eyesight of the elves' would allow them to see the slight movement. It was a terrible plan with far too many risks, but nevertheless it was the best they could come up with on such short notice. The main objective was to save Estel and to not let the Lord of Rivendell get injured or worse in the process.

The overwhelming feeling of being watched crept over him. It was unnerving and he scanned the area to see if he could see the cause. Much to his displeasure he could not.

Finally, after another ten minutes, Fenneth strode out of the trees in Elrond's direction. It disgusted the elf lord to see the smug and triumphant expression on his face.

Elrond folded his arms and fixed his face into the most piercing glare he could muster and then almost smirked when he saw that man's smug smile flicker slightly under his gaze.

They were now face to face, man against elf, murderer against lord, kidnapper against father.

"Greetings, Master Elf," Fenneth said cheerfully.

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He was tired, in pain, hungry and thirsty, but would they let him rest for a moment? Of course not.

Morfran was dragging him through the forest yet again, this time tailed by three other surly and unpleasant-looking men. Every time he tried to slow down, Morfran would yank at his shirt and make him walk so fast that he was bordering on running.

Estel remembered when the twins had come home from a hunting trip once and Elrohir had a broken rib. His Ada had told him not to move because he was in danger of puncturing a lung, Estel didn't really know what that meant but it certainly didn't sound good. His chest was feeling painfully constricted and he hoped that wasn't going to injure himself even more than he already was.

His mind wandered back to his Ada; if something bad happened to him then Estel would never forgive himself. He found that he wasn't that worried though; his Ada was practically invincible. He was far smarter than these murderous men.

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Elrond now knew what was wrong. As Fenneth talked he could sense movement in the trees. Elladan and Glorfindel had been right; this was definitely an ambush. He moved his arm down slightly and brushed the concealed hilt of his sword with his hand.

The man had been making a list of demands for about ten minutes, including absurd things like the title 'Lord' be bestowed upon him.

"Where is my son?" Elrond interrupted.

Fenneth stopped and his eye glinted, "Oh don't worry master elf, your son is in very _capable _hands."

Elrond felt sick, he did not like tone Fenneth was using, "If you have hurt him I'll-"

"-You'll what? Kill me?" Fenneth laughed, "We both know you can't lay a finger on me, because as soon as you do I'll send word to have your precious little son killed. Slowly and painfully."

His blood was boiling and there was nothing Elrond would have liked better than to demonstrate his ability to rip a man's head off with his bare hands. He had to exercise all the self-control he possessed to force his face back into a neutral expression and say, "Carry on."

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Gasping for breath, Estel was shoved down into a sitting position on the floor, for which he was genuinely grateful for even though it was done in ill will. He pulled himself closer to the tree he was next to so he could lean back on it while Morfran watched him warily.

"Climb them trees so you can see if anyone's comin'" Morfran said, indicating two of the men, he then looked at the other, "You stay with me jus' in case the little rat tries to escape."

At the moment Estel had no desire to try and escape, he just wanted to close his eyes…

"Wake up!" Morfran shouted in Estel's ear, making him jump about a foot off the ground. Estel glared at Morfran and rubbed his eyes. He had developed a great amount of disgust for this man; Estel had never met anyone quite like him before. His brothers and Ada had told him stories about people like him. Cruel and vindictive people. But he'd always assumed that no one like that really existed outside the world of fiction or history books.

He felt a pang of guilt as he thought about his brothers and Ada. They must be so worried. Estel desperately hoped they were all right.

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Elrond caught a slight movement in the corner of his eye. Fenneth's men were moving from their places in the trees and behind rocks. If the situation had not been so dire, Elrond would have rolled his eyes at their incompetence. He was an elf for Valar's sake; did they really think he would not observe them immediately?

The man before him had been talking profusely and redundantly for about twenty minutes, no doubt a ploy to distract him from what was clearly going on around him.

He was torn; Fenneth obviously had no intention of giving Estel back but there was no way he could warn his sons. He didn't even know if Estel was still alive, Fenneth could have easily been lying. No…Estel must be alive, he would know it if he were not.

Elrond resolved to watch Fenneth very closely for some sort of signal he was giving to his men, that way he would be more prepared to defend himself and give his own signal to the elves hidden behind him.

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"How does it feel to know tha' your dad is going to be killed because of you?" Morfran said with a sly smirk.

Estel resolutely ignored him outwardly, but inside he felt his heart breaking at the words. Morfran had watched him closely and let out one of his bark like laughs that Estel had grown to passionately hate.

"Oh so you're goin' t' do this again are you? Not answer my questions, little Estel?" Morfran said, his grin fading.

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Elrond brought his hand deliberately up to his left ear.

The effect was almost instantaneous, elves and men were running from all directions wielding weapons. Elrond had quickly drawn his own sword and was fighting two large men at the same time.

Before long it was full-scale chaos.

"Elladan! Elrohir! Go and find Estel, he is somewhere in the forest. Be careful!" Elrond shouted to the twins over the din.

Elladan nodded from the outskirts of the battle and he and his brother ran as fast as they could into the forest. Elrond felt his chest constrict painfully as he watched them run out of sight and prayed that Estel was unharmed.

Swinging his sword around to clash with the man's behind him, he frantically searched for Fenneth who seemed to have escaped in the pandemonium. If it had been a regular battle the elves would have won at once, but because of the absolute bedlam and the fact that more and more of Fenneth's men seemed to be jumping out of trees and from behind rocks at the most in inopportune moments, it was proving difficult.

He spotted Fenneth on the outskirts of the fighting directing his men. Coward, he could at least have the decency to join in. As much as Elrond would have liked to force his way through the throng of fighting to go directly to Fenneth, he had to turn his attention back to the people close at hand.

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Polinthor was still stood behind a tree. It's not that he was scared at all; quite the contrary, his hands were quite steady. He just did not think this was right. The elves had every right to want their Lord's son back and Polinthor wasn't sure if he wanted to stand in their way.

He noticed with a bristle of indignation that Fenneth had backed slowly away from the elves and was preparing a bow and arrow. The cheat! Polinthor was not going to do anything to stop him though, as much as he disapproved of Fenneth's shenanigans, he was not going to hinder him. That would make him disloyal.

Fenneth was now climbing up a tree quickly with his bow on his back. It must have been so he had a clearer shot. Swinging himself up to perch in the tree, he seemed to be debating who to aim for but with a snap decision he knocked an arrow and released it with as much strength as he could muster.

There was a loud shout of shock that let Polinthor know that Fenneth's arrow had hit home.

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Elrohir and Elladan crashed through the tree towards their brother's panicked shouts.

"Which way?" Elrohir gasped.

Elladan stayed silent for a moment, but then another cry from Estel set them hurtling themselves in the right direction.

The identical elves dashed through the woods until they finally arrived at a small clearing and what they saw horrified them. A stocky man was grasping Estel by his hair and holding a knife to his throat.

Elladan froze at the sight of Estel's terrified expression and the bloody running down his face from a wound in his temple.

"If you take one more step, I'll kill 'im," the man said venomously.

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Elrond jerked his head around in alarm as his friend cried out in pain. His eyes widened in abject horror as he saw Glorfindel sink to his knees with an arrow protruding from his shoulder. He almost swore loudly and searched around to find the location of the sniper.

His eyes narrowed as they came to rest on Fenneth who was sitting smugly and safely up a tree.

"Lindor! Go and see to Glorfindel, he's been shot and needs someone who can do first aid," Elrond yelled as loudly as he could to the elf closest at hand.

Lindor's eyes widened, much like Elrond's had, and he nodded and scurried off to find Glorfindel, who naturally had stood up and had continued to fight with his other hand.

Elrond fixed his piercing glare upon Fenneth and began to fight his way over to the tree with a determined look upon his face and in an unforgiving frame of mind.

_To be continued…_


	6. The Bitter End

**Disclaimer: **See chapter 1

**Authors Note(s): **Alas, the end is nigh. Only one more chapter left before I say good bye to my first piece of multi chaptered fanfiction. It's all very exciting. I really hope you enjoy the penultimate chapter!

A massive thank you to Nietta, whitedino, Elfinabottle, viggomaniac, Lina, SiriusBlackFan2, Seduction, leggylover03 and LinZE! Reviews really do brighten my day :p

**Beta: **You should all be glad Nietta is on the job, saving the world from grammatical errors!

**Carry On My Wayward Son**

**Chapter 6**

_The Bitter End_

He was now at the foot of the tree looking up at Fenneth.

"Come down and fight me like the man you should be rather than the coward you are!" Elrond shouted.

Fenneth seemed to smile slightly.

"As you wish," he said, and then jumped down to face Elrond. "I'm going to kill you now."

Elrond laughed coldly, "We will see. Look around you; your men are all but gone. You should have thought twice before you attacked the house of Rivendell."

The man glanced around; he had not even noticed that his men were being killed.

"What is wrong?" Elrond said, "You haven't run out of bold threats already have you?"

Fenneth swore and drew his sword, "Your precious elves may have been lucky, I doubt the same will be said about you when we have finished."

Ignoring his last comment, Elrond quickly raised his sword to meet Fenneth's.

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Elladan angrily started forward but was stopped by a combination of his brother forcefully grabbing his arm and Estel's small whimper as the man dug the knife further into his throat.

"Let him go," Elrohir said, "Now."

Morfran seemed to ponder this momentarily, "No, don't think I will."

Elladan opened his mouth to protest but froze. Someone was holding a sword to his back, and by the look on his twin's face Elrohir was having the same problem.

He composed himself and moved his furious gaze back to Morfran, "Let. Our. Brother. Go," he said. His voice sticky with rage.

"Now, I 'ardly think you're in any position to be orderin' me around. Do you?" he replied with a small smile, then turning slightly towards the man that had come to stand beside him, "Take care of them, will you. I'm goin' t' make sure they don't catch us. Come catch up with me when you're done"

"No!" Estel cried, "Leave them alone!"

"Shush, Estel," Elladan said softly, "Everything will be fine. We will come and get you soon."

Morfran laughed, "If you say so, elf."

With that, he dragged a kicking and screaming Estel away and disappeared, leaving the twins to contend with three of Fenneth's best fighters.

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Polinthor walked aimlessly through the trees; there was little he could do to help anyone anyway. It was not like anyone would have noticed he was gone. The men had been losing spectacularly when he left, and if he was being honest with himself they deserved to be. Some of the men were not too bad really, but none of them had tried to stop Fenneth's wicked plan or Morfran beating the small child for no reason other than his own sadistic pleasure.

He sighed and thought about what a big hypocrite was. Perhaps he was just a coward after all.

A crashing sound somewhere ahead of him brought him out of his self-induced stupor, he looked up in astonishment as Morfran appeared dragging the child behind him. He almost smirked as Morfran seemed to be having difficulties keeping hold of the boy, who was fighting for all he was worth. He had always despised Morfran, he was a vile and unpleasant little man and Polinthor had on many occasions doubted his sanity.

He looked down to check his sword was still where it should be and began to stride over to the scene before him with steely determination.

"Morfran!" he shouted, regretting it as soon as the word left his mouth, "Let him go."

Both Estel and Morfran stopped and turned to look at him with perplexed expressions. Morfran soon recovered however.

"Ge' lost. I'm busy," he shouted back, looking furious about the distraction.

Polinthor closed his eyes momentarily to mentally prepare himself for what was to come, "Let him go," he repeated, drawing his sword.

They were almost face-to-face now. Morfran's feature's twisted into a horrible grin and he threw Estel to one side. The child gasped slightly and dragged himself up to hide behind Polinthor.

"You can't beat me. You're rubbish with a sword, why you even botherin'?" Morfran said, laughing slightly.

Polinthor shrugged, "Maybe I want to do the right thing for once."

This made Morfran laugh even louder, "If you say so." He drew his sword and pointed it at Polinthor with a manic smile on his face.

"Go and see if you can hide up a tree or something," Polinthor said so only Estel could hear. The child nodded mutely and scuttled off as fast as his injured body would allow.

As was Morfran's style, he immediately threw himself at Polinthor, sword a quick blur of silver as he moved.

Polinthor had never been good with a sword; he was not strong enough. Although there was one thing he had over Morfran, and that was that he was faster. This was not much help though as Morfran was easily overpowering him.

Morfran slashed his sword down and sliced Polinthor's cheek. He gasped as blood began dripping down his face. He hoped for the child's sake that he was well hidden, for at the moment he held no hope of success.

The constant clanging of sword upon sword was making his head spin. His arms were aching terribly. With a sudden clash Polinthor's sword was knocked violently out of his hands. He stood stock still as Morfran shot him an unpleasant look and spat on the ground.

"Pick it up."

Polinthor didn't need to be told twice; he stooped down as quickly as he could and grasped his swords hilt once more, not taking his eyes off his opponent. He wouldn't put it past Morfran to attack him before he actually stood back up.

"Elladan! Elrohir!" shouted the small child in a tearful voice from somewhere behind him. Polinthor sent out a silent and bitter thank you. To be saved from one enemy by another, how poetic.

"Stay where you are Estel, I will get you in a moment," the first elf said loudly.

Polinthor looked over at them. They looked tired but relatively unscathed. It was curious, he thought, he wasn't aware there was such a thing as twin elves. Then again, until he had met the Lord of Rivendell, he hadn't been aware there was such a thing as a dark brown haired elf either. Maybe they were related.

"I will take over, thank you," one of the elves said to him coldly. Polinthor just nodded and stepped away from Morfran, who had begun swinging his sword around in a frenzied rage.

"What did you do to my men!" he demanded.

"They are dead," was his short reply.

"You will pay for what you have done," the other elf said to Morfran.

The man snorted and launched himself at the nearest elf.

For a moment, Polinthor watched with some interest, but then he decided it was time for him to leave and began to back away slowly.

"You," said the elf not fighting, "Stay there."

Polinthor stopped dead and resigned himself to the punishment that the elf no doubt had in mind. He raised a hand to his cheek and flinched as it came in contact with his cut. It was still bleeding so he ripped one of his sleeves and pressed it against the gash.

The fighting elf seemed to be giving off a fury that not even Morfran could match. His blows were swift and strong. The elf leapt forward forcing Morfran to jump backwards, then much to Polinthor's amusement; he lost his footing and stumbled backwards slightly, only saving himself by shooting his hand out to steady himself on the nearest tree. The elf easily ducked under Morfran's insane swings and fought back with alarming accuracy. Morfran was quickly backed up against a tree in an attempt to flee from the oncoming attack.

Morfran grunted in pain as the elf's sword crashed down onto his hand, causing his to drop his own sword on the ground.

The elf had what Polinthor could only assume was an uncharacteristically ugly look on his face.

"Elladan," the elf next to Polinthor said warningly, jerking his head in the direction that Estel was hiding in.

Elladan's expression softened and he nodded at his twin.

Despite being beaten Morfran laughed, "HA! You can't do it can you? I knew it. You're a coward. Even after wha' I did to tha' stupid kid."

"You are pathetic," Elladan said, "You will come back to Imladris with my brother and I and let our father deal with you."

Elladan lowered his sword and turned around. This proved to be a mistake straight away. Morfran quickly bent down and drew a knife from his boot and launched himself at the elf.

Sensing the movement, Elladan swung his sword around and it came into contact with Morfran's neck.

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Elrond's face was slim but strong with grey eyes that seemed to gleam with cold fury, and he was fighting his enemy with all the might he could muster. With inhuman speed he lunged forward and the man's parry was only just successful in preventing him from becoming skewered. It did not stop the elf from grazing Fenneth's side with his sword though. Elrond then had to twist out of the way of the counter lunge. His opponent had obviously decided that being on the defensive for the whole fight was a mistake.

Their swords clashed violently but it was clear that Fenneth was at a severe disadvantage, in fact, it looked almost like Elrond was just toying with the man.

Elrond was glad to see that Fenneth was growing desperate; his attacks were becoming less accurate and less forceful. As out of practice as Elrond was, he was not finding it very difficult to stave off the man's attacks. It was in a moment of weakness that his sword met its mark.

As Fenneth raised his arms, presumably to aim for a high shot, Elrond darted forward and embedded his sword firmly through Fenneth's stomach. The man gasped and dropped his sword behind him. He placed his hands around Elrond's blade to keep himself upright while gasping fitfully for breath.

Elrond pulled his sword out from the man's stomach, his eyes unmoved and implacable, and Fenneth crumpled to the ground.

It had begun to rain slightly, the dark clouds casting shadow all around. Elrond held his sword to Fenneth's neck to make sure that he could not move from his fallen position. The depraved man chuckled.

"Killing me will not change anything you know. It won't take back what we did to your son. I'm just a messenger."

"What are you talking about? Messenger?" Elrond said, pressing his sword down more firmly. These did not sound like the words from a man who had just done all of this for a few acres of land.

Fenneth laughed, "More will come. You have no idea… There will be others you know," the light was fading from his eyes; Elrond could tell Fenneth was dying from his bleeding wound.

"You are insane."

Infuriatingly, the dying man laughed again, except this time it sounded weaker, "Perhaps," he said, "But know this…You may have triumphed today…" he was struggling for breath now, "But…evil will rise again…it always does… This is not the end…"

But for Fenneth is was. His head fell back and his eyes glazed over. Elrond's sword fell to his side and he sighed.

Fenneth's cryptic warning had worried him, in all likelihood it was just the depraved ranting of a desperate dying man, but maybe it was not. Elrond added it to his 'things to ponder later' list. He did have a point after all…Evil would always rise again. But they would just fight it like they always did and hopefully come out on top.

Elrond looked around the makeshift battlefield, the elves had naturally triumphed and no one seemed to be seriously injured apart from Glorfindel. Hooray for small miracles, he thought sardonically.

The rain was getting heavier, and being more prone to human weaknesses than most elves, Elrond was getting cold. The sound of running footsteps caught his attention and he turned to see Elrohir sprinting towards him.

"Ada! We found Estel, Elladan is taking him back home."

"Good," he said with his first true smile since Estel had gone missing.

"There is also a man with them who I think you should talk to. He sort of saved us."

Elrond just nodded, "Is Estel well?"

The younger twin paused, "He has some injuries but it is difficult to say how severe they are before we get back to Imladris. I think he has a couple of broken ribs though."

Elrond grimaced, "Go back to him then and do not leave him until I arrive. I have some things to take care of here first."

Nodding, Elrohir turned on his heel and sprinted off again.

Finally spotting what he was looking for, Elrond walked over to where Glorfindel sat leaning against a tree, eyeing the arrow in his shoulder.

He kneeled down next to the blonde elf, who seemed to be fighting to remain conscious. Glorfindel seemed to have lost so much blood that even the mighty Balrog slayer himself had become weak and fatigued. But before Elrond could say anything, Glorfindel spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Did he shoot me?"

"Yes."

"Did you get him?"

"Yes."

"Is Estel all right?"

"He will be," Elrond answered darkly.

"Am I going to live?"

"Yes."

"Fantastic," he replied before passing out.

_To be continued…_


	7. Welcome Home

**Disclaimer: **See chapter 1

**Authors Note(s): **Wotcha! As this is the last chance I'll have to say it, a massive thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this story. I'd again like to apologise for the lateness… So without further ado, I bid thee enjoy the final chapter of Carry On My Wayward Son.

**Beta: **The exceptional, unparalleled and indispensable Nietta.

**Carry On My Wayward Son**

**Chapter 7**

_Welcome Home_

_It was dark and he ran. It was raining and he ran. It was cold and he ran. But as much as he ran… he wasn't moving forward. They were catching up with him. He didn't know whom 'they' were but he was sure he didn't want to find out. It was as though there was a huge stampede chasing him, and it was getting louder and louder and louder._

_He gasped and stumbled; his legs felt like lead. He whimpered as he could feel their hot breath on the back of his neck. No! They were going to catch up any second. He didn't know what would happen if they did catch him but he knew whatever it was would be awful._

_But no… there was a light ahead of him. If he could just make it there then maybe he would be all right. He forced his little legs to move faster. He wanted to look behind him to see what was chasing him but he didn't dare. _

_He was closing in on the light. Just a bit further and… _

_With a sob of relief, he leapt through the blinding entity of light and landed on the floor with a thud. He looked up with tears streaming down his face._

_His heart skipped a beat; he was in his father's sitting room. Elrond sat with a book on his lap and Elladan and Elrohir both sat cross-legged on the floor, laughing and joking about something._

"_We gave him the child's bed, father," Elrohir said with a smile._

_Elrond, who didn't seem to be listening, made a distant 'Hmm' like noise._

"_Ada?" Estel said, "It's me! Estel!"_

_Elrond didn't even look up. Estel glanced around the room puzzled; they didn't seem to be able to see him. In fact no one had even looked up when he unceremoniously fell down into the middle of the room._

_Elrohir spoke again, "He seemed to like the room, though he thought it was a bit babyish. We threw out all of the boy's clothes, no need to keep them now."_

"_Ha, yes, we also threw out that ratty old teddy bear," Elladan said with a smirk. _

_They threw out his teddy bear and his clothes? Estel's stomach dropped. Were they talking about him? Why? Where had he gone? _

_The door behind him creaked open and Estel spun around to see who it was. Much to his abject horror, Morfran came strolling in the room with a twisted smile on his face. _

_Estel jumped up and backed himself up against the wall to get as far from the man as possible. This could not be happening._

"_Ah, Morfran," Elrond said warmly, putting his book down, "Come in and sit down." _

_Estel cringed in fear as Morfran gave one of his bark-like laughs and instead drew his bloodied sword and waved it around in a threatening manner. _

With a jolt of terror, Estel sat bolt upright in bed. He gasped for breath and looked around with bewilderment. He was back in the Imladris healing wards. How had that happened?

His eyes, still blurry from sleep, came to rest on a blond haired elf who appeared to be sleeping, and even though he wasn't facing him, Estel could immediately tell it was Glorfindel. His heart was still beating painfully as he blinked slowly so his eyes would adjust to his surroundings, before slowly swinging his legs around so he could sit up properly.

He ground his teeth together to stop himself from making a noise because of the pain. Elrond was good but he wasn't that good; Estel still had many injuries that could take weeks to heal. In fact, if Elrond saw Estel out of bed, he would probably have a minor heart attack himself. This Estel know from personal experience and from observing the reaction provoked in his Ada when he had caught Elladan out of bed two days after almost being eaten by wargs. Not a pretty sight.

Estel shivered as his feet landed softly on the cold ground, so he picked up the blanket that had been put over him and wrapped it around his shoulders. He was going to find Elrond and his brothers and explain everything. If they didn't forgive him then Estel didn't know what he would do. He would have to make them understand. Also, he didn't like the idea of lying in this room with an unconscious Glorfindel after his harrowing nightmare that he couldn't seem to get out of his head. The thought of Morfran taking Estel's place in his family terrified Estel even though he knew he was dead.

He shivered again and made his slow and painful way out of the door.

Surprisingly, there seemed to be no one around to stop him and demand that he go back to bed, so Estel paused for a moment before making his way to Elrond's office. That was where the twins and his ada were most likely to be.

Estel arrived outside the door and put his hand on the handle. He stopped. There were voices coming from inside, so he pressed his ear to the keyhole and strained to hear his father, the twins and someone else…

"…there was something else as well," the voice said, "He knew the boys name without being told."

With a pang, Estel realised it was Polinthor, Fenneth's right hand man.

"Yes, it is certainly very odd," Elrond agreed, "I must ask Estel about it when he wakes up."

"He kept disappearing off into the woods…I don't know where he was going. It's probably not important but I noticed he did it a lot."

Elrond said something quietly and Estel tried to press his ear even closer to the keyhole. This was all very odd, and Estel did wonder how the man had found out his name.

In his blind oblivion to the world around him, Estel didn't see a tall blonde elf walk up quietly behind him. It therefore came as a huge shock to him when said elf placed his hand lightly on Estel's shoulder, causing him to yelp and jump in alarm, aggravating his already injured body.

"Calm down, Estel," Glorfindel said softly, "It is just me. What are you doing out of bed?"

The door to the office swung open and Elrond looked at them with an irritated expression, "I could ask you the same question, Glorfindel!" he said.

Glorfindel looked slightly sheepish for a moment but quickly recovered, "Why should I be in bed? I'm perfectly fine."

Estel was almost amused by his Ada's look of distain until he looked down into Estel's eyes. Estel flinched slightly and looked away, missing Elrond's look of concern. There was a short silence and none of them knew what to say, until Elrohir called from inside the room asking what was going on.

"Nothing, Elrohir," Elrond replied, "Estel and Glorfindel have just decided to get out of bed, despite their serious and no doubt painful injuries."

Glorfindel was unaffected but once again Estel couldn't help but flinch, yet he didn't know why. Glorfindel must have been hurt by the humans as well, Estel thought, shaking his head, why had he been so stupid and ran away? This was all his fault…

"Estel," Elrond said sharply, "Are you all right? I'm going to take you back to bed. Glorfindel, while I know I cannot _make _you do anything, I am going to strongly recommend you also go back to bed. You are still weak from the blood loss."

Estel nodded mutely but Glorfindel pursed his lips, "I will go back to bed after speaking with the twins, all right?"

"Perfect," Elrond said with a smile, he knew that was the best he was going to get from Glorfindel at the moment.

Seeing his ada beckon him away, Estel followed without protest back to the room he had woken up in. He then obediently sat down on the bed where Elrond pointed to and was not surprised when Elrond placed himself next to him.

"How are you feeling?"

Estel bit his lip, "I'm fine," he said unconvincingly.

"Come on now, Estel, I know you are not. Tell me what happened, from the beginning."

"I… I was just…" Estel was becoming upset, it all seemed so stupid now, "I went for a walk and…they got me."

Elrond raised an eyebrow, "So it was not because of what happened at dinner that night?"

He hesitated and then said slightly tearfully, "Well, yes."

Elrond sighed and reached out to hold Estel's hand gently, "No one blames you if that is what you are thinking, Estel. Granted, it was not one of your more ingenious ideas and when you are feeling better we will have to talk about it more. But for now you need not worry about it."

Tears began to spill slowly down Estel's cheeks, "But it's all my fault…Glorfindel is hurt…Elladan and Elrohir must hate me."

"The twins do not hate you!" Elrond exclaimed, "What ever gave you that idea?"

He sniffed, "And I lost my bag when I was running away from Fenneth…"

"That can easily be replaced, do not worry."

"Where is _he_?" Estel said looking down; he noted that Elrond didn't seem to need to ask whom he was talking about.

"He is dead," his ada replied shortly.

Estel let out a choking sob and hung his head. As much as Fenneth had made him miserable, he wasn't sure whether he wanted him dead. The image of Morfran's head being chopped off flooded his mind and he shuddered, causing Elrond to move closer to him and pull him into a gentle hug.

He didn't resist and allowed his father to cradle him even if it did make him look childish. At the moment the only thing he cared about was the warm comfort that was being offered. It didn't quite erase everything that had happened in the last few days, but it was definitely a start. Now all Estel needed to do was actually talk to his brothers. They had not spoken on the way back to Rivendell, mainly due to the fact that he had fallen unconscious after only a few moments.

Estel's eyes were slowly drifting shut, he hadn't realised how tired he was. He didn't try to stay awake though, because why bother? For the first time in a while he finally felt safe.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It was now the afternoon of the next day and Estel still hadn't spoken to his brothers. Already the monotony of healing ward life was getting to him and the boredom was setting in. His ears pricked up as he head the sound of shuffling feet moving towards his door.

Estel sat up moodily and gave his father a wary look as he bustled in looking harassed with two reproachful looking elves in his wake.

"For goodness sake, talk to him," Elrond practically hissed at Elladan and Elrohir behind him, "I cannot cope with your moping."

"We don't mope!" Elladan replied looking outraged. Estel couldn't help but giggle at him.

Elrond made a disbelieving noise and left the room, leaving the three left in a slightly uncomfortable silence.

"Um…" Elrohir began.

"I'm sorry," Estel interrupted. He couldn't stand them being awkward like this; he just wanted things to get back to normal.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Estel," Elladan said, hanging is head, "It was us who drove you to running away from home."

"It was just me overreacting," Estel said sadly, "You didn't really do anything wrong. I was just getting so angry… it seemed like a good idea at the time."

There was a pause and then suddenly Elladan let out an ungraceful snort of laughter.

"You know," he said, "I think those were the exact words Elrohir used after he thought it would be clever to leave home for a while."

Estel's interest peaked, "Really?"

"I don't think he needs to hear about that, Elladan," Elrohir said looking mortified.

"Oh I really think he does," Elladan replied gleefully, "Well you see back when we were little elflings…"

Estel's grin grew wider and wider through the entire story. It felt good to just sit here and listen to Elladan talk while watching Elrohir's face get redder by every passing second. All tensions vanished and Estel felt like part of the family again. He really had been awfully silly. But never mind, life goes on and he would recover. Much like Elrohir apparently had.

_The End_

**So that's it. Done. Finished. Finito. _Or is it…?_ Again a big thanks to everyone who supported me by reviewing and generally just reading. Do you thing you can find it in your heart to do it just one last time? It doesn't have to say much :P It would just be nice to know what people thought. So good-bye for now and I wish you all the very Merriest of Christmases! **


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